Undying Spell
by CabinFever
Summary: There was a rumor of a spell that might work even better than a horcrux. Lord Voldemort knew about this, of course. He was willing to sacrifice everything to make this work… all he needed was a time-turner, a willing girl and... a good amount of seduction. AU. Time-travel. HG/TR. Rated M for a reason!
1. What Meets the Eye

**A/N: Hey there! I'm here to present you with a plot I had been considering for quite some time and I decided to give it a try! I really do hope you enjoy this first chapter as it's only a brief presentation of what you can expect from future chapters! **

**I appreciate any sort of feedback ^^ also, I'm looking for a willing and dedicated beta-reader!**

**Please give it a try, I promise regular updates! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything besides the plot :p**

* * *

**Undying Spell**

**Chapter One: What meets the eye**

**by: Cabin Fever**

* * *

"Is she a virgin?"

Lord Voldemort's voice echoed through the walls of the Malfoy's mansion. It wasn't the question that caused everyone to suddenly freeze. He knew that. Severus stared blankly at him as if the idea itself was completely surreal.

A rumor had reached his ears not long ago and, if proven to be true, it would be the ultimate way to ensure that his life would not be at the mercy of mere objects. Why? Because he knew Harry Potter already knew too much about the horcruxes and he was getting closer and closer to finding all of them and he knew he had to hasten his plan as quickly as possible.

The spell itself was rather simple and quite laughable, but in order to make it work he needed a girl.

But not just any girl.

Hermione Granger. Harry Potter's most devoted friend and brightest witch of her age, as he had gathered.

Voldemort didn't even blink. He was still waiting for someone to answer him.

"My lord…" Dolohov started slowly and took a few steps, contouring the long and dark table in the middle of the room. "Could you explain to us exactly what you intend to do with _that_ girl?"

The Dark Lord could tell Dolohov was running impatient with so much secrecy and he was not known for being a bright person when it came to understand camouflaged plans.

He remained still in his chair and shifted his gaze to Bellatrix instead. "You were the one that came to me about that spell. Now explain to the others what it consists of."

Not waiting to be told twice, the foul witch let a devious smile paint her face. "It is quite simple: we need one girl and a time-turner. We already have the time-turner. It's a new and more secure way to make sure the Dark Lord achieves immortality and this time not even Potter can intervene."

A long pause stretched out.

Bellatrix turned her attention back to Voldemort. "My lord, I do believe Greyback is already searching for the _mudblood_."

He wordlessly nodded. She continued her speech. "The only thing the girl has to do is let the Dark Lord become intimate with her and the rest I still haven't come to discover, but I'm working on it, of course."

Voices started to be heard across the room and they were filled with doubt and suspicion.

"And why is the time-turner needed?" Severus inquired flatly. As always, he was the one bringing up the smart questions.

"The time-turner is needed because the girl has to be sent back in time, Severus," Bellatrix spat, assuming a defensive position.

"Clearly," he pointed out, cocking an eyebrow at her. "What other use could it have?"

"You–"

"Enough!" Voldemort said rather calmly. Not much was needed to get everyone to immediately obey him. "This debate is pointless. To answer your question, Severus, I have not much to say. She needs to be sent back in time, to the year 1943, to be more accurate."

The murmurs replaced the silence again. Dolohov tilted his head lightly. "And why is that, my lord?"

"She needs to become infatuated with me," he explained, not wanting to reveal too much just yet. "And according to Bellatrix, her relationship with me needs to be more… _intimate_."

The thought alone was like a whiplash across his mind. Not that he had never been intimate with a woman before. But a mudblood? Not ever. Unfortunately, he needed someone powerful and intelligent and now wasn't the time to be picky about this. She would have to do.

"And why does this require her to be sent so far behind? Couldn't you just do it now? In the present, I mean?" Dolohov persisted and Voldemort was quite amused at how much thought his follower was putting into this.

Voldemort ran a hand over the dark wood table as if petting it. "There's the catch, Dolohov. She needs to yield herself to me willingly. I doubt forcing her to do this will have the desired effect. Not to mention that back then I was more… _appealing_. It'll make things easier."

Cunning laughs emerged from his followers and he knew that they were now growing fond of the idea. After all, it involved persuasion and a bit of malice to do it.

Voldemort took his time to study Severus' reaction to all of this. There was something about his expression that made him doubt he fully agreed with it. "Severus, you'll be in charge of this whole process as soon as the girl arrives."

He noted a hint of surprise invade Potion's teacher. "You already have the girl?"

Lord Voldmort couldn't help but to grin mildly at his quick remark. "Indeed. Greyback is on his way here as we speak and with good news."

"But Potter…"

Anger was now building inside of him like a fierce snake waiting to attack. "Potter what? Do you thing he's clever enough to know where she was taken? I don't care if he's seen as a prodigy. He certainly is not and I'm not afraid of what he might do!" His voice was trembling with rage and it took much of his willpower not to lose his temper. "By the time he even realizes what happened, it'll be too late."

Snape remained calm and said nothing. Voldemort's anger was now spent and he leaned back on his chair, gazing at Severus menacingly.

"Why does she need to be a virgin, my lord?" Lucius now asked somewhat nervously.

"It's part of the process," he said simply. "It'll be more likely to succeed if she is intact, right, Bellatrix?"

The witch was caught off guard as she was leaning bluntly against the wall. "Uh… yes, my lord! That was what I gathered. As I said, the main goal is to get intimate with her. I'm not sure about the rest…"

"Well, then make sure," Voldemort merely threatened in a low whisper. "I'm not willing to take such a risk as to let a Potter friend back to 1943 only to realize she is of no good to me! Meddling with the past is dangerous, Bella. It is dangerous enough to know that the consequences will be immeasurable."

Panic was now splattered across the woman's face. "My lord, I would never… I…"

"I know, Bellatrix," Voldemort assured. "You would never dare to mess this up. You'd have to pay with your life."

Before they could carry on their conversation, a loud thundering noise was heard all over the room.

"LET GO OF ME, YOU MONSTER!"

She was finally there.

Everyone in the room made way for Greyback and the girl to enter. Looks of disgust and anger were spread across his followers' faces and he couldn't help but to smile at it.

Fenrir halted a few meters in front of Voldemort as he held the girl in his strong muscled arms. She had strength in her that much was sure. Her petite face was flushed and tears rolled from her swollen eyes. His first impression of her was quite positive: although not gorgeous, she was not hideous either, which was more than he was expecting; as for her body, she was in some need of curves, but he found that to be irrelevant for the matter. Curly brown hair fell on her face as she struggled against her captor. Also, the fact that most of her clothes were stained and torn, he guessed catching her had been quite arduous even for someone as agile as Greyback.

Voldemort regarded the beast before her with a near bored expression as Fenrir's yellowish nails sank deeper in the girl's arms. "I had to contain myself not to bite her. This one is a hard bone to chew."

And good for him that he had been able to maintain his basic instinct at bay or he'd be welcomed with death. No, Voldemort did not like werewolves in general and Greyback was the worst kind possible to exist. However, he needed his services and the beast needed his. So, for the time being, their interests were temporarily aligned.

Voldemort took more time to study Hermione as she had now only realized that struggling wouldn't do her any good.

Anger. Yes, anger flickered in her young eyes and he knew she'd kill everyone in the room if given the chance. He also knew she was far too smart to defy anyone in such a state of submission, hence her more cautious attitude.

"Where is her wand?"

The werewolf's features hardened and he merely shrugged. "Dunno. I think it fell behind."

"You broke it, you monster!"

"Fenrir!" Voldemort raised his voice just as Fenrir was about to hit her. "One more scratch on that girl and our little arrangement will have to be changed."

Of course Greyback wouldn't want that to happen. His weekly supply of preys would quickly come to an end if he dared defying Lord Voldemort. The exchange of insults between him and the girl ended as abruptly as it had started.

More paces in the room and Voldemort began losing his patience as to who could it be now. The elegance of said pacing, however, gave him the insight of the woman responsible for it. "Ah, Narcissa… good of you to join us."

The discrete blonde woman jolted in surprise when he regarded her presence. "My lord, everything is as you'd commanded."

"Good," he merely said, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin in the back of his hands. "Now I need you to get me a wand. Hmm… dragon heartstring will do."

She bowed her head lightly with elegance and left the room as quickly as her shoes allowed. He then looked at the girl who was returning the gaze. "Miss Granger, right? Finally we meet. I've heard so much about you. Not all good, of course, but enough, I dare say. Impressive how some of your skills surpass the one's belonging to you dear friend Harry Potter."

The girl straightened her body. "Whatever that means."

"It means what it means," Voldemort said. "He's the _boy who lived_, but you will be the one doing something truly extraordinary."

"Let me go, you snake," she chose to answer. Her tone was now more aggressive, but still measured. "Harry will keep on doing what he is. Don't think abducting me will allure him here."

"I agree," he said, making sure his eyes were fixed on hers. "But not even perfect Potter is able to trace you back here. So, Miss Granger, I believe you already know that you're not leaving."

She now stood awkwardly and her face went very pale. Fenrir's grip on her eased and she just stood there.

Voldemort had expected more struggles or some yells, but the girl said nothing more. Well, he had to keep pushing her, though. "I won't kill you, rest assure. However, I do hope you behave."

That was all it took. "Behave? For _you_? What is it that you want, then? I'm not saying anything about Harry!"

A throaty laugh escaped Voldemort's inside. "We both know that if I wanted that, you'd tell me in no time. And I wouldn't even need to torture you, right, Severus?"

Her eyes averted back to her former professor and he was able to recognize hatred when he saw it. The tall dark haired man remained impassive. "Yes, my lord. Miss Granger knows that refusing to tell you information will do her no good."

Amongst the many persuasion methods the Dark Lord possessed, Veritaserum was by far the most amiable one and rarely used, by obvious reasons. The only one that defended that it should be used more often was Severus Snape. He was indeed a glorious potions' maker and he knew his serum would always be perfect whenever Voldemort intended to use it.

But the Dark Lord was not worried at all about that potion. It was simply not needed in this situation. "Bellatrix, come here."

The woman raced in no time to meet Voldemort. "You do realize that a memory spell is required, right, Bellatrix? Sending her this way will not be helpful."

Seeing that she was not getting his point he lowered his voice. "Do it. Erase this meeting and her abduction from her mind."

Bellatrix shot the girl a venomous look; one that said girl returned with a fierce glare. "It won't be a problem, my lord. Although I have to ask… will your younger self know of this?"

Voldemort took a slow, deep breath. "Of course not, Bellatrix. He's been informed to keep an eye out for a new student, but other than that, no more information. As I've said, meddling with time is a dangerous thing to do, even to me."

"It'll be my pleasure, my lord."

Bellatrix never missed an opportunity to torture someone or to run some _errands_ to entertain her master. After all, such devotion had always been much appreciated by Voldemort. When all others had failed him, Bellatrix had not.

The woman approached Hermione and pointed her wand at her merciless. The girl fidgeted against Fenrir's grip. "You can't even do your work by yourself, can you, _Voldemort_? You send your minions to do it!"

Voices of protest were heard once again. Bellatrix Lestrange spat at Hermione's feet. "You filthy mudblood… if you only understood what's about to happen to you…"

Narcissa came in once again, her pace hastened and carrying some belongings. Everyone cut the chatter and observed as the Malfoy woman approached the mudblood with some reluctance and forced her to hold a suitcase. As soon as she had managed to fix those things to the girl's hands, she positioned herself by Bellatrix's side.

"May I, my lord?" She asked holding the time-turner as well.

Voldmeort inhaled deeply and mesmerized the girl whose tears streamed down her face again. "Professor…"

Severus knew she meant him, but said nothing. She didn't stop however. "Professor…please! I know you don't agree with this! Don't let them do this! Think of Dumbledore!"

"Enough!" Bellatrix ranted. "Leave him out of this! You'll do as you're commanded!"

After this, she placed the time-turner on the girl's hand and everyone watched as Potter's friend disappeared.

* * *

The only sound Hermione could hear was the pounding of her won heartbeat. The exposed parts of her body came in contact with the cold marble as she lost her balance. Soon after, she felt her head throb making it impossible for her too open her eyes and take a glimpse at where she was. She couldn't even find the right strength to regain her posture. Last thing she remembered was being with Harry in Godric' Hollow and after that – no matter how much she tried – she could not remember more.

Only a few minutes later did she realize she was holding something in both of her hands.

One was a time-turner. That much was clear.

The other felt rougher against the palm of her right hand and she guessed it could be some sort of suitcase.

As she began more and more conscious of her surroundings, she then tried to open her eyes and stand.

Easier said than done, for she almost fell again had not been a person. "Hey! Are you okay?"

Hermione tensed quickly and assumed a defensive position although she was pretty much blind. "Where am I?"

There was a silence before the feminine voice answered. "Err… at Hogwarts?"

"Nancy! There's Professor Dumbledore!" other girl shouted which made Hermione cringe and walk some steps behind until she became in contact with a wall again.

"Professor!"

"Miss Sayler?" A deep and calm voice spoke. Dumbledore… "What happened?"

Hermione kept trying to regain her faculties as soon as she could, but all she had come to gather was that it was rather dark and there was no apparent reason for her to be at Hogwarts.

And Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was supposed to be dead. Nothing made sense.

"Miss?" His voice drew near. "Are you alright?"

"I… don't know."

"Miss Sayler and Miss Josepha, could you please leave us both alone? This dear miss needs some guidance."

Hermione supposed both nodded since she hadn't heard anything else but the professor's voice. "Miss, come. You need to seat."

She allowed him to guide her uncoordinated legs to a bench nearby. Slowly, her blurry vision allowed a clearer one to take place. Hermione reckoned Dumbledore was waiting for her to say something first. "My name is Hermione Granger and I have no idea why I'm at Hogwarts, professor…"

Hermione allowed herself to gaze upon Dumbledore for the first time in ages. He was far younger than before, but with the same kind eyes and light grin. She was not sure how young he was, but his long auburn beard already showed hints of grey hairs. Of course he had far less wrinkles than what she was used to. Half-moon spectacles rested on the bridge of his crooked nose as his piercing eyes peeped from them. Although welcoming, she couldn't not help but to feel he was highly suspicious.

"I've already noticed you're carrying your belongings," he pointed at the suitcase now resting on the floor next to Hermione. "But I can't seem to understand why you should be carrying a rare artifact such as a time-turner."

That man never missed anything. She opened the hand holding it and examined the tiny gold object. Hermione was sure it wasn't the one Professor McGonagall had given her on her third year. "Sir, I don't know how it's in my possession. I found myself here and-"

He raised a hand very subtly. "Miss Granger, whoever sent you here did not want you to return, that's if I'm correct in assuming someone did send you here. You see, your time-turner is broken. I doubt you'd do it yourself on purpose.

Hermione concentrated on the time-turner before her eyes far too obsessively and almost forgetting she was having a conversation. No matter how much she tried to squeeze her mind, she could not remember any of this. A thought vaguely crossed her mind, but she didn't dare saying it loud.

"Miss Granger?"

"Oh," she said at last. Dumbledore was eying her with much interest. "Can you fix it, Professor?"

"Well, I could give it a try, but…" he hesitated as he looked at the object in her hands. "Time-turners are very sensitive magical objects. When not handled properly, the damage could be permanent. I'm afraid this head does not possess such knowledge."

Crap.

"What year is it?"

"September the 1st, 1943," he informed rather quickly. "You have no signs of trauma and your response is quite fine. However, I think someone jinxed you somehow. A memory spell? Quite possible, yes."

"Oh no…" Hermione began panicking as the evidences began building up. This was no dream for sure… this lucid? Not possible. The only person evil enough to do such a thing was _him_, but how? And most important, why?

Some late students walked past them only acknowledging Professor Dumbledore, obviously. It was Hogwarts, alright. The same glow and glory as ever. Always someone late and always someone to make sure the lost ones found their way.

"What do last remember?"

"I was with a friend… Harry…" she shut up immediately thinking that it would be better not to reveal any real names, let alone Harry's. After all, this could very well be a plan by _him_ to try to extort information from her. Her name, however, was pretty much insignificant. "Err… Otter. We were having diner in a restaurant somewhere in London. After that, everything is pretty much blurry."

He nodded softly at her. "I can't seem to acknowledge any of your names. Is that friend of you're a wizard as well?"

Hermione paused before nodding. "Yes. But he doesn't go to Hogwarts. He's kind of a rebel. We're both muggle borns, so don't expect to find our lineage walking around this corridor, professor."

One more lie. If she kept going on like this, she'd break Ron's personal lying record (and it was quite the record).

"Have you finished school yet?"

"No…"

"What year are you from?"

"1997, professor."

That information impressed him for his eyes widened a bit. "A huge gap, I see. In which year were you at Hogwarts, Miss Granger?"

"6th, professor," she murmured. The thought of how her school was back in 1997 pained her deeply.

"Well, Miss Granger, this is what we'll do: you'll be sorted again by the sorting hat and you'll proceed your 7th year with normality. In the meantime, I will try to find you a solution," the young Dumbledore explained with kindness.

Hermione couldn't help but to return a smile for old time's sake and then realized they were no longer alone. A tall figure was standing next to a stone pillar.

"Who is it?" Dumbledore asked. The boy came out of the shadows that covered his face. "Ah! Tom, back from the train, I believe."

The boy had pale skin and jet black hair. His eyes were dancing between her and Dumbledore and he had his eyes carefully placed behind him in order to look more professional. She guessed that the word attractive didn't do him justice and as soon as she saw the prefect badge hanging from his robes she knew he was a role mode student and that pleased her. His looks were impeccable and she couldn't help but to damn those new prefects who were always so sloppy on their robes and looks.

"Yes, professor," the boy answered with a very natural tone. Even his voice had a prefect ring to it. "Late students, as always."

The old man laughed softly at the young boy and rose to his feet. "Indeed, Tom. Well, I must be on my way, though. I would ask you to show Miss Granger to a bathroom," he was now more serious. "She's new here, you see. A little accident and she ended up like she was in a fight. Tom, after it, take her to the ceremony for her to be sorted."

His neutral face faded and a side-grin crossed his lips as he looked at her charmingly and she wondered whether it was genuine or fake. "Absolutely, Professor Dumbledore."

"I'll be seeing you, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a warm smile.

As they watched him disappear at the end of the corridor, the boy turned himself to face her fully with his features still pleasing. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Granger. My name is Tom Riddle and I'm a prefect to this school. Now, if you're ready, I'll show you to the nearest girls' bathroom."

Hermione's heart plummeted back to ground again as he approached her. Unconsciously, she jolted and retrieved an arched eyebrow and a suspicious look from him. "Allow me to carry your luggage, Miss Granger."

"Oh, okay. Right."

"Are you feeling well?" He inquired as he picked up her suitcase.

"Totally."

Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribcage that she was afraid she might notice it through her mutilated clothes. Hermione Granger was pretty sure Tom Riddle also known back in her days as Lord Voldemort had noticed her looking down at her chest for no apparent reason.


	2. Not Easily Forgotten

**A/N: Thank you all for your feedback :) I know time-travel fics are more than many in this fandom, but this one has some surprises for you ;) please enjoy and review!**

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**Undying Spell**

**Chapter Two: Not Easily Forgotten**

**by: Cabin Fever**

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Hermione took her time in the familiar Myrtle's bathroom. She wasn't exactly sure of when she was killed, but it was either in 1943 or 1944… Either way, she wasn't there at the moment.

The sink which led to the Chamber of Secrets stood just in front of her and Hermione vaguely wondered if standing frozen like that was a good idea considering how all of this looked weird. Unfortunately, even though she had faced many dangers, this time there was no Ron or Harry. She was all alone and she couldn't help but to feel afraid.

None of this felt right from the moment she realized where she actually was. All that conversation with Dumbledore was supposed to enlighten her, but it didn't. It felt…_odd_. Was he really Dumbledore? Could he be trusted? If so, who would go through all the trouble of sending her back in time and more precisely, while _he_ was still at Hogwarts?

A sudden wave of anger started boiling inside her. That _thing_ was just standing outside, waiting for her. The thing that caused her loved ones so much pain and now was offering her help around the castle she knew like the back of her own hands.

This could well be a set up by Voldemort, but why?

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes faintly hoping it might be just some bad dream.

"Miss Granger? Are you done?"

For a moment she remembered she had a wand in her pocket. Not her own… but a wand nonetheless. If he did as much as to enter the bathroom, she would be ready.

She inhaled deeply and straightened properly to wash her hands and face. This would have to do until she could take a real hot bath.

Not wasting any moment lingering there, she exited the bathroom not bothering to see where he was. She didn't want to look at him or be helped by him.

"Where do you think you're going?" A commanding voice came from behind her. "I am to lead you to the great hall."

She halted and turned slightly looking directly into his eyes. "I know the way."

To hell with discretion. She wasn't going to spend one more second with him so close to her. Not waiting for him to retort, she resumed her walking.

However, she felt him pace quickly behind her until he was side by side with her. "How do you know the way if this is your first time here?"

"I saw some students heading there," she lied. Honestly, Hermione still had to work on her deceiving skills. "You can go now. Thank you."

This time, she noticed him looking down on here with a scrutinizing look which fit his profile like a glove. He was studying her as if he could read her thoughts or find anything just by looking at her.

"I have clear orders from professor Dumbledore," he simply said with a pompous tone, still walking beside her. "Since we are going to the same place, I will have to accompany you, Miss Granger. It is my duty to ensure the safety of this school's students."

Since they were going to play this game, she decided to put on her feigning cloak. "Really? That's so brave of you."

He said nothing for he'd probably noted her sarcasm, but Hermione knew his temper. Well, she had heard of it. Sometimes, all it took was a wrong word and he'd kill someone without thinking twice.

And Dumbledore… the man he sent Malfoy to kill. He would never be a third of the man he ever was and he knew that. Yes, he was still young, but Hermione wondered how many cruelties had he already done. A person who opens the Chamber of Secrets knowing what would happen, should at least feel some remorse, but she reckoned he felt satisfied that mudbloods were dropping like flies around the castle.

They didn't exchange another word until they reached the great hall's enormous doors. He then spun on his feet and placed a coy smile on his face. "Well then, Miss Granger. Here it is. Since you already know so much, I can trust that you to find your way to a table and wait for your turn."

He had barely finished his provoking sentence when Hermione decided she had already heard too much to her liking and began pacing between the Hufflepuff's and Ravenclaw's tables. Several sets of eyes were shot in her direction as she walked all by herself until she finally sat at the edge of Hufflepuff's table gathering some disapproving stares. The first year students hadn't even been all sorted, so it would be a while until she would be.

The expected buzzing started around her as it was barely audible where a red hair girl had been sorted to. Dumbledore had to ask for silence before resuming the sorting.

Hermione's heart was pounding hard against her chest as she hated feeling so many people looking at her and commenting on who she was. Older students admitted at Hogwarts were hard to come by or hardly accepted without further investigation. So, normally, they would have to look into her, but wouldn't find anything.

She simply didn't exist.

* * *

Tom Riddle considered himself a pretty suspicious person when it came to situations which involved sudden and inexplicable situations. Whether it was an abrupt leave from a teacher, students wandering in the corridors at night for no apparent reason or… new students.

Since he had become a student of this school only one older student had been admitted and it was due to the fact he had been hill for the majority of his 7th year hence the permission to finish it the year after. Other than that, he hadn't heard of any other case.

The oddest thing was a letter that had been sent to him just a few days before school started which specifically stated for him to beware of a new student arriving at Hogwarts. It had no sender's name and it was pretty much vague, but it certainly aroused his senses and after the little walk he had had with Miss Granger he was positive there was something wrong with her.

Tom didn't expect her to know how things worked around here, but the way she spoke to him was what intrigued him even more. If someone at Hogwarts –not counting the teachers– spoke to him the way she did, that person would be sorry. However, he had order from Dumbledore to bring her safe to the Great Hall.

It looked like she had been through a struggle or had fallen on a mud pit. Her bushy hair was full of dirt and her clothes half-shredded.

He snorted inwardly. She could at least make herself presentable for the ceremony and wear the uniform. The least Hogwarts expected from its students was personal hygiene and respect.

"What the hell happened to that girl?" Avery mocked across the Slytherin's table, gathering some chuckles of approval. "Tom, you came in with her. Who is she?"

Tom's face smoothed into an expression of impatience. "New student, Avery. Stop asking the obvious."

His loyal followers were, above all, annoying and if it weren't for their untouchable devotion for him, he wouldn't even care to sit next to them. Avery was always too nosy for his own good and it displeased Tom. The perfect followers would be a group a people who were much kept to themselves and preferred avoiding sticking their noses in somebody else's business. They would also be hard working and top students, but this wasn't the case.

This time, Lestrange pulled a face. "New student? With those looks? Not that she's a total loss, but she must reek."

Tom ignored his intervention and roamed his eyes over to Dumbledore who was almost done with the first year sorting. As usual, a new lot of students had been sorted into Slytherin. He clapped his hands unenthusiastically each time a new one joined the table.

Suddenly, the Great Hall fell in absolute silence as the girl climbed the steps to be sorted. The Transfiguration's professor was looking her with a kind smile which irritated Tom and made him take a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Every single person in the hall was looking at her and even Headmaster Dippet revealed some curiosity.

After a few moments of waiting for the sorting hat's decision a loud 'Raveclaw!' was heard throughout the Great Hall. Tom took some time to study her reaction and he wasn't sure if she was relieved or surprised as she joined her house table and sat quietly as some people congratulated her. There hadn't been an enthusiastic reception as it was demanded from every house each time a student was sorted. Like him, most were whether suspicious or curious as to what to make of her arrival.

He half expected her to be sorted into Slytherin or even Gryffindor with that attitude, but he was wrong.

A conversation was brewing at his table and the majority of people were giving out opinions on possibilities of her acceptance. A fourth year girl was actually the one that was closest to Tom's opinion. "I mean, we seldom see someone older being accepted here. Headmaster Dippet was looking at her as if he had never seen her before. How can this be? Who allowed her in?"

Dumbledore, of course. The distressed people's eternal savior. Earlier this year, when Tom had first opened the Chamber of Secrets and pinned it on Hagrid, the old man came to his rescue and convinced Dippet to allow him to stay at Hogwarts as a ground's keeper. What a pathetic excuse for a dimwitted like Hagrid. After that, Dumbledore's suspicions towards Riddle became more and more obvious and he had to keep a low profile until the year was terminated. Now, he kept glancing at Tom with false kindness and he knew sooner or later, he would have to deal with Dumbledore.

Everyone was taking more and more guesses. Some said she was a lost niece of the Headmaster; some said a rumor was spreading that her family had been killed and was taking in by Dumbledore as a kind favor.

As if those option were even remotely possible.

Avery stuffed his mouth with some chicken as Dippet allowed them to start dinner. However, his loud mouth wouldn't shut up. "Tom, what do you think of this?"

"As if I'd tell you, Avery," he answered coldly as he graciously cut his rosbeef as calmly as possible. "Just keep your hands off her. I've had enough with you causing scenes with girls. One more attitude like that, and I'll dismiss your company."

The boy looked at him with shock. "You wouldn't… I don't do it on purpose. You know me, Tom."

"Yes, I would and yes, you do it on purpose," Tom pointed out evenly, growing tired of his disrespect.

Lestrange returned from a small tour to the Ravenclaw's table and promptly sat next to Abraxas. "Apparently, she'll be taking classes with us. She is in the 7th year as well."

Tom never appreciated the fact that Lestrange liked to socialize with the other houses so much, but this time he preferred not to criticize him. So, Dumbledore decided to put her in the 7th year? Her knowledge of witchcraft should be vast, then. There was something about all of this that seemed off. Dumbledore loved to be the hero, but not even him would be as stupid as to let someone completely unknown to him enter the castle.

He _must _know her.

Either that or he was willing to take the fall if she proved to be unworthy of his trust.

Right now, there wasn't anything Tom wanted more in the world that to prove that to be true.

* * *

Hermione had never been in this position before. She was a smart and stubborn girl, but things always seemed easier with Ron and Harry. If they could see her right now… It was probably quite sad that a girl her age should feel like a diminished person. And to think Harry went through so much by himself… yes, he had her company and Ron's, but some things only could felt and only he had been through. Hermione never admitted this to them, for it would make Harry feel like he has always been treated his whole life: the poor boy, parentless and who no one understands.

Maybe she was experiencing his pain in a more subtle way.

Nothing made sense. She was at Hogwarts. People were real, but she couldn't help but to feel out of time. Well, she was out of time and her body wasn't the only thing suffering from it. Her mind as well. Hermione could see people were different from what she was used to. When she joined the table, few congratulated her and no one even bothered asking where she was from or any of those questions that would normally come attached to a situation like hers.

And then there was Tom Riddle. School extraordinaire with a prefect badge he did not deserve to play a role e most certainly did not know how to.

She quickly looked behind her shoulder and scanned for him along the Slytherin's table. There he was, paying more attention to his food than to his actual _friends_ who so desperately tried to get his attention.

"Don't even bother," a girl's voice interrupted her thoughts and she jolted slightly in her seat. She remembered the girl's face from somewhere… She noticed Hermione's surprised face and put an obvious expression upon her pale face. "I saw you looking at him. Don't even bother."

The girl had some freckles sprayed across her nose and cheeks and a long red hair wrapped up in a high ponytail. Grey eyes dance from Hermione to her plate.

Really?

"Err… I wasn't bothering," she answered quite impressed with the girl's attitude. "So, I've seen your face…"

Suddenly, the girl dropped her strained face and it was replaced with a nice smile. "Oh, yes! I was the one that found you on the floor. I am Nancy Sayler. Pleasure to meet you, Hermione. I'm also in the 7th year."

Hermione returned the smile and chewed on some bread. Another girl joined the conversation. This one was slightly chubbier than her friend, but had a more pleasant face. Black hair cascaded down her back as she straightened her tie. "Hi! I was there too. I'm Victoria Bashet and it is a pleasure. Are you feeling better?"

"Thank you," Hermione smiled shyly and felt more at ease. "Yes, indeed. Bad trip."

Nancy looked at her clothes. "Your clothes are pretty much done. What happened? Also, never seen such fashion before and I have an eye for it."

Maybe if she complained of headaches, they would leave the subject rest. She wasn't in the mood to talk about fashion or what had happened. Not even she knew what exactly had happened. She brought a hand to her temple. "I think my head is still hurting a bit," she feigned and the girls immediately apologized and advised her to go to the hospital wing. "No problem. It'll pass. Anyway, why did you say I shouldn't bother?"

And there it was that weird look in Nancy's eyes again almost as if she was defending something. "Tom Riddle is pretty much asexual. Don't even waste your time having a crush on him. He despises girls as the plague."

"What?" Hermione half-yelled. Having a crush on him? "I couldn't care less for that selfish and mean prick."

Nancy and Victoria eyed each other with some confusion. The red hair girl spoke first. "You know Tom?"

"Well, no," she said bluntly almost disgusted at the fact she was having a conversation about that snake. "Just first impressions."

Victoria nodded and twirled some spaghetti with her fork playfully. "Some girls here would disagree. He's like the prototype of perfection both in looks and mind. But whatever, it's not like he'd fall for a fat chick."

"Victoria!" Nancy reprehended a bit too loud assembling some attention to the three of them. "Don't say that. There are plenty of fish in the sea."

Hermione didn't exactly consider being a massive murdered and a genius of evil to be perfection, but according to some standards it could be, who knows. It was clear his looks were imperative in the female population of Hogwarts. Much to her dislike, she couldn't say he was ugly. In fact, she was still surprised with his features. No one would dare to look at him and call him a dark wizard. From afar, he seemed like one of those popular guys every girl wanted to have and walk around hands in hands with her head resting on his shoulder.

Tom Riddle was a pretty boy and not even Hermione's hatred towards him could deny that fact.

The other two girls carried on a conversation as Hermione stood as a spectator. Victoria just sighed at her friend. "Yes, more fish. Right. Point me one guy in this hall who can beat his looks."

"There's Edward Norris from Gryffindor," she pointed out quite pleasantly. "Always a treat to the eyes."

But the other girl just waved her hand as if trying to get rid of a fly. "Don't compare, please. Tom rarely smiles, but when he does it's different."

Hermione thought the age of teenagers crushing on boys this way should be over by the 7th grade, but apparently she was wrong.

Then she began remembering who that boy really was and she felt disgusted and couldn't contain her disgusted look on her face. Unfortunately, they noticed. "What is it, Hermione?"

"Err, this chicken has too much salt," she immediately said, thickening that look.

Nancy grabbed a tiny flask and shook it in her hand. "This is the salt. Our food rarely has any food in it."

Nice, Hermione.

* * *

Soon after, dinner was over and everyone began standing up and causing a mess in the Great Hall. As a prefect, Tom's duty was to show the 1st year students the way to the Slytherin common room and around the castle.

"First year, follow me," he called evenly, making sure everyone heard him.

The other years had already left the hall to make room for the first years. The turmoil began to soothe as Gryffindor and Hufflepuff exited and Tom glanced sideways to the Ravenclaw's students which were waiting for Slytherin to move along.

Tom spotted Lestrange who was also a prefect and walked to the end of the line towards him as the Slytherin's first year moved out. "Lestrange, you can show them the way, right? I have something to do. I'll join you later."

He nodded and Tom knew he wouldn't complain, at least to him. His followers were used to his sudden disappearances mostly to go to the Restricted Section, so Lestrange didn't even dare asking where he was going to.

Tom was curious to see something about that Granger girl. The access to the Ravenclaw common room wasn't granted by a password. It was granted by a riddle and you could only enter upon giving the bronze eagle-shaped knocker the right answer. The difficulty of those riddles escalated according to the person's year being the 7th year the hardest. He wanted to see how well she'd do against it.

He let the Ravenclaw's prefects take the little ones up to the stairs seeing that their common room was in one of the castle's towers. Tom kept a certain distance in order to avoid being spotted and only when he was also done climbing the tight spiral staircases did he show himself.

"Framett, I would like to see Miss Granger answering the riddle," he said to the prefect girl who looked at him quite scandalized.

"Riddle, this is the Ravenclaw's tower," she informed, trying to sound nice in front of the others. "_Your_ common room is a bit downwards."

Tom let an affected grin invade his features. "You don't say, Framett. Save us both some time and let her do it."

He then saw Granger looking at him with a killing look and defiance crossing her dark eyes. Tom inwardly smiled, for he couldn't care less if she was mad or furious at him.

However, Framett was decided to give him a hard time. "What's in it for you, Riddle? You never do anything unless it's beneficial for you."

"It's ok," Granger spoke as everyone looked at her. The young ones held a confused look on their faces. "I'll do it."

Tom knew she was too proud to back away and he approached the common room door and stood there as she waited for the knocker to tell the riddle. Soon after, it spoke. "What occurs once in every minute, twice in every moment, yet never in a thousand years?"

This one was good. Tom had never heard it and that was exactly the purpose. Logic skills were high among Raveclaw students and it was a security measure to prevent students from other houses to find the answer.

Silence fell over them as they waited for her to respond. She has head bent slightly and her dirty curls fell on her forehead and shadowed her eyes so he couldn't try to guess her thoughts. Tom noticed Framett tensing as she was afraid she wouldn't guess the answer.

"The letter 'm'?"

The door sprung open and everyone cheered.

That had been fast. Too fast for Tom's liking. Granger then turned to face him and he felt his blood boil with anger. "What were you trying to prove, Riddle? I was sorted into this house for a reason."

The worst part was that she was actually right. Ravenclaw preferred people with high logical and with skills and apparently she met the requisites.

He suddenly noticed they were now both alone as Framett waited for Granger to be done with the conversation. "Do not think of yourself so smart, Granger. I know you are hiding something and believe me I will not rest until I find out what it is."

She looked up at him with a side grin. "Whatever, _Tom_. The least I see you, the better."

That girl called him by his first name. He only allowed teachers to do so. She clearly had no idea who she was dealing with. He noticed Framett was no longer at the entrance and seized that to shove her against the wall next to it. His grip tightened across her neck as she struggled to get free. He had silenced her long before she even realized what had happened. He pushed her head upwards to meet him in the eye. "Listen to me, I do not tolerate disrespect. Everyone knows it."

His voice was more of a hiss now and watched her as her face grew redder with the lack of oxygen. She was under his control now.

But before he could say anything further she buried her knee in his groin immediately making him release her neck. He bent down as the sharp pain blazed his body. It was unbearable and it made his vision go blurry as he lean his head on the wall trying to control his breathing.

That _girl_ was gone by now, of course.

"What happened?" The prefect girl had appeared again. "Did she hit you?"

"Get lost, Framett!" He yelled in frustration. Tom would not allow her to make fun of him. Although in some pain, he assumed a more prefect-like posture and gritted his teeth. "You better scowl that girl! Thirty points from Ravenclaw, Framett. And prey I don't take more!"

The girl chuckled at him. "Headmaster will hear of this, _Riddle_."

Tom forced himself not to listen or he might kill someone that night.

**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Now I must ask for your help. Tell me whether you prefer a dark story or a lighter one. I'm headed into a dark one, but I will like to know your opinions! Please review, guys :) it really pleases me! TY!**


	3. WARNING

Hey guys, there is someone in this site and fandom that stole my story. It's rated T and it's called Needs. I've already reported it, but some times this site takes too long to delete stolen stories.

Also, that person said that she/he would continue that story to get more reviews than me.

I ask you to please report the user and the story.

I never thought someone would do this. And sometimes, this ruins stories and I'm afraid of that...

Once again, asorry for this, but you guys needed to know.


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